It's Raining
by TheDerpyKatsuChan
Summary: One night Stan finds Kenny outside in the rain, after 6 long years. Stan brings Kenny home with him and lets him stay there for a while. Old feelings start to come back and Stan falls in love again. But at this point Kenny has already become fucked up beyond belief. Can Stan really save him? Kenny doesn't seem like he even wants to be saved. STENNY. Dark themes. Drugs, Sex etc.
1. Stan Marsh - Rejected on a Rainy Night

It's a dark night. I think it's darker than usual... The dim streetlights don't do shit tonight, and they don't illuminate the streets like they usually do. It's raining. And when I say it's raining I don't just mean that it's drizzling. No. It's pouring down insanely much right now.

There isn't a single soul, except for myself, out on the streets. They're all inside their homes, hiding from the rain. Everything is completely quiet, except for the small sounds that the rain makes when it hits the pavement.

I walk along the empty streets of South Park, and I can't help but wonder why no one else is around... Because the rain is nice, no, it's more than nice. The rain is amazing. It's beautiful and it makes me feel calm. Most people shy away from the rain, but I embrace it instead. Tonight I walk along the streets, under my fancy, red umbrella, with no real destination. I just like the rain. That's all.

For a few moments I can escape the reality of the world, just aimlessly wandering along in the rain. I like this feeling, and for a moment I'm really happy, even though my life is actually very unsatisfying. I'm 21 years old, I live alone in a small shitty apartment and I just have a crappy job as a cashier at the grocery store. Sounds really exciting, doesn't it?

* * *

Everyone else is doing better than me in life. Kyle is in Boulder, studying at some fancy university together with Tweek who for some reason went there too... Even if he himself says that he can't handle the pressure... Butters got over his fear of tap dancing and he's now doing better than ever... Craig became a mechanic, and there's rumors about him having a thing with Clyde... I don't really know what Clyde is up to nowadays... Probably not being lame and wandering around in the rain though...

Heck, even Cartman is doing better than I am. He just recently moved away, to Denver apparently, with his fiance whom he's been with for 3 years now. It's funny isn't it? I certainly never thought that Eric Cartman would be the one of us having the best love life... But who is this girl, that actually puts up with all of Cartman's shit? Oh... You know... Just my old elementary school girlfriend... Yeah, that's right... Cartman and Wendy... Surprisingly they're doing really good together. I'm happy for them. Things kind of completely fucked up for Wendy and I when we were 12 so we broke it off pretty mutually. Also I found out that I'm actually gay about 2 years later anyway...

I actually haven't dated much since. Never found someone that I was very interested in... Well... Maybe one person... But that person was taken... And then they just disappeared, when we were 15 and I had just realized what it was that I felt for them. They just left without saying a word.

Nowadays my life is just dull. Same old, same old. Wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, go back home, eat dinner, call Kyle or Cartman to check up on them, watch TV, masturbate, go to sleep. Then repeat it all again the next day.

This night is a little different though I suppose, since it's raining. Those few times when there is actually rain instead of snow in South Park, those nights I spend outside, instead of at home watching TV. Because I love the rain. Many people would find the rain itself dull, but not me. It's so very beautiful and kinda exciting, compared to my own dull life filled with such repetitive routines.

* * *

This night I end up walking along, minding my own business, like always. But when I walk past the elementary school building I hear something, something other than the sound that the rain hitting the pavement emits. It almost sounds like a cough... I think it's coming from behind the school... Around where the goth kids hangout used to be maybe?

I stop in my tracks and I just listen. Silence. Could I have imagined it? But then I hear it again. It does sound like coughing. Huh, strange... Who the hell would be hanging around there at this time of the night?

Curiosity gets the best of me and I start to walk towards the sound. When I turn around the corner of the school I see it. Orange. I blink a few times at the bright color in front of me, that contrasts the gray, rainy environment.

Turns out that the orange color came from a jacket. An orange jacket with a hood on it. There is a person wearing that jacket, but their face isn't visible.

I stop in my tracks when I see the person. I'm a bit too loud so they notice me. The person looks up at me with big, ocean blue eyes, that also contrasts the orange jacket. It is really who I thought it was... I know this person. To me those eyes look a bit more distant than they used to but they're almost the same. There is no doubt about it.

"Kenny..." I say, from where I'm standing under my umbrella. Just when I finally thought I had stopped having this feeling... He just had to...

* * *

Kenny is sitting on the ground, a few meters away, leaning against the wall of the school building. He's absolutely drenched in the rainwater. He has a black backpack with him which lays discarded next to him.

He pulls his hood off his head when he hears me talking. His entire face is now visible, and Kenny still looks just like Kenny. He still has somewhat childlike features, and he has many small freckles upon his tanned skin. His look is completed with his self-cut, dirty, sand blond hair, that is sticking up in wild directions. The rain quickly starts to soak his hair, making it stick to his face.

Kenny still looks really beautiful. But Kenny has bags under his eyes. He looks tired and worn out, and there is something. Something about his eyes, that looks really wrong now. I don't know why, but it's something. Something that wasn't there when I last saw him.

Why is he here? Why now? Why like this? I don't know. It all seems so odd to me. Why would he suddenly appear now?

"Yo..." He says with a small smile. His voice sounds a little raspy... Kenny is not like I remember him. He looks so mellow and calm in this state. What's wrong with him? "It's been a while Stan..." He then says. He sounds so content, maybe even happy, though he looks like such a mess. Something's wrong. Something's off. Really off.

"You could say that again..." I answer. "6 years Kenny. You were gone for 6 fucking years." I almost sound bitter when I say that, and I am. I am pretty bitter. He didn't even say goodbye or anything. He never told any of us he was gonna leave... He just disappeared. We've been worried sick about him.

Apparently his so called boyfriend, who was actually more like a fuckbuddy, Craig Tucker, brutally dumped him one night. By the next morning Kenny was just gone. He disappeared. Everyone looked for him for over a month before it was concluded that Kenny McCormick had just disappeared into thin air. I don't know any more about it than that.

"Sorry about that, man..." He answers with that content looking smile and it makes me sick. He doesn't mean what he's saying. I can tell.

He's strange... He's running from something... He's trying to somehow block it out by pretending that it's fine. That he's doing good. Or maybe... Maybe he actually feels fine with this? Maybe he's actually content like this? Has his self worth really dropped to this low?

"You have anywhere to stay tonight?" I ask him carefully. I already know the answer cause it's pretty fucking obvious, but I ask anyway.

"Not really..." He tells me. "But this is pretty chill... The rain is nice." Bullshit.

I'm not so sure if Kenny is still Kenny anymore. What the hell happened?

* * *

I walk up to the boy and I stand in front of him. I move the umbrella in my hand and I place it over his head instead of my own. I can feel the rain hit me but I don't care. He raises his eyebrows a little.

"You're staying at my house tonight." I tell him firmly, leaving no room for arguing. I then reach my hand out towards him and he grabs it in his own and drags himself up from the ground. His hand is strangely cold, almost sickly so.

He throws the backpack over his shoulder and we leave. Kenny pushes away the umbrella from over his head.

"No point. I'm already soaked." He tells me. Still that content fucking voice. Why does it sound like that? "You use it... No need to get you all wet too..." I suppose he's right... I was just trying to be nice though.

"You sure?" I ask him and he nods. Our conversation then ends and we walk in silence towards my home.

* * *

We soon end up outside of my apartment. I take out the key from my pocket and I unlock the door. We walk inside and our shoes are removed.

Kenny looks around the place curiously. Though it's nothing much really. You enter into the living room/bedroom area of the house. This room is pretty cramped. I have somehow managed to fit a bed, a wardrobe, a small bookshelf, an ugly, old, dark red couch with a small table in front of it and a TV in this place, even though it's tiny. I don't understand how this all fits in here. I also have a kitchen and a small bathroom. The kitchen is pretty nice actually, and thankfully not as cramped as the other room, and the bathroom is pretty alright.

"Nice place..." Kenny states seriously when he appears in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen after his exploring. He looks at me, with those strange eyes again, while I'm sitting on the couch.

"Dude... Not really... It kinda sucks." I answer.

"It's like a million times better than most places I've been staying at lately." He tells me.

"And where exactly have you been?" I ask curiously. He owes me some fucking answers. He just left us all. He abandoned us. The others may have gotten over it but I never fucking did. I think it's cause he meant more to me... My feelings for Kenny weren't exactly just those of friendship.

"I just, you know, traveled around a bit... Ended up in Boulder at first, wasn't all that sweet... Somehow showed up in Denver, where I stayed for a while... Was pretty shit but whatever. Still had some fun times. Lately I've been hanging around North Park a lot... So I thought I'd stop by here for some old memories sake... Didn't expect it to be raining this much though..." His answer is a little too vague... Why the hell did he leave? What did he do? How did he become this fucked up? This strange? I decide to not push it too much tonight. It's probably better to leave it be. He'll talk when he's ready.

"Ah, I see..." I answer. Then I realized that his clothes are still completely soaked. "You should get out of those clothes. You'll catch a cold otherwise." I tell him as I get off the couch. I walk up to my wardrobe and open it, looking for something Kenny could wear.

"I probably already have one. But don't bother. I'm alright..." He tries to reassure me. I just continue to look through my clothes.

"No need to make the cold any worse then. And in fact... I don't want you to drench my whole apartment either." Kenny chuckles a little at that.

"Okay, man... Fine." He then chuckles some more. "You're still just the same as I remember you, Stan." That's right. I haven't changed. I'm the same. Everyone else is moving. In both good and bad directions. It seems like Kenny went in a bad direction though... But I'm standing still, and it's so dull.

At least life might get a bit more interesting now, since Kenny is here. I really hope so.

"Yeah I guess so... You aren't the same though." I answer. It comes out sounding sadder than I want it to. I continue roaming through my clothes for a bit. I have no fucking idea what to give to Kenny. I don't even fucking know what he likes to wear... Except for orange... And I don't own a single orange piece of clothing. Trust me, I look like complete shit in orange.

"I suppose not..." He says, and for a second he sounds a little unhappy. But that disappears when he continues to talk. "People change you know... I guess I just did so more than others." He has a small smile on his lips, even though I'm pretty sure that he knows that his changes were shit. I just nod.

"Pick whatever you want from my wardrobe." I tell him with a sigh before I flop down on my bed. I just lay there looking at the ceiling for a moment while Kenny looks for something to wear.

"Is this alright?" He asks after a moment and I look towards him. He's holding a black, long sleeved shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants in his hands. I nod at him.

"Sure. Just hurry and get out of those wet clothes." I tell him, and he does exactly so. He turns back around and closes the wardrobe before he starts to undress right there, with his back turned to me.

* * *

At first he just unzips his jacket and drops it on the floor. But then he peels off the white t-shirt underneath and drops it as well. I get a very nice view of his entire backside from where I lay on the bed. His back is tanned as well, and it also has the same kind of freckles on it. Most of them being in the neck and shoulder area. Kenny looks very thin, like he really hasn't been eating properly, but he still looks damn good. He seems to have got some muscle either way.

I can feel the room getting a little too hot and my pants are starting to get tight. God fucking damn it. Just from looking at his back... Seriously?

I stare at him the entire time while he's changing, savoring the moment. I swear to god, if it was not for my fear of getting caught and having to explain it then I would probably masturbate right here and now to this beautiful view. I've still got it bad for Kenny McCormick... Damn it.

After the t-shirt is gone, he removes his jeans as well. He's wearing a pair of black boxers underneath, and fuck. My now full on erection starts to ache painfully. His ass just looks flawless and I can't handle it. I'm such a loser...

Kenny quickly puts on the shirt and the sweat pants after that. I'm torn between if I should feel relieved or disappointed...

When Kenny's done he looks back at me and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. I feel a little flushed, and fuck, please don't let him notice.

He laughs a little and then I know it's just a joke on his part.

I get up, even though all I actually want to do is masturbating while thinking about Kenny and his gorgeous body. I fetch a pillow and a blanket. Kenny will be sleeping on the couch for the night.

"Want something to eat?" I then ask him. He shakes his head.

"Nah... I'd rather just get to bed." Kenny tells me, so we both do just that.

* * *

While laying there in bed, I still fight the urge to masturbate even though it's throbbing kind of painfully... After a while I wonder if Kenny is still awake... Cause I myself can't sleep for shit with a very shameful raging boner like this...

"Hey Kenny..." I say quietly. I can hear him move a little on the couch.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"You know when we were 15? Before you left?" I ask him.

"What about it?" Even now his voice still doesn't sound right...

"I was... I was in love with you back then..." I tell him honestly. I don't know why I confess this to him now of all times. Maybe it's cause I can get away with it if he doesn't like me that way... He doesn't have to know that I still feel like this. If I need to I can pretend that I just see him as a friend now, even if it hurts. He's hiding from the truth, and he's hurting deep inside, I just know it. He doesn't need to think about my silly feelings right now, he just needs some support.

"Oh... I never knew..." Kenny answers. It doesn't sound like he's mad, or grossed out, or even surprised. He just sounds a little put off and uncomfortable, like he's not sure what to say. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago anyway..." I say to him, even though it hurts like hell. I think my voice cracks a little. My heart aches unbearably much and I can feel my eyes starting to water. I feel unwanted and rejected. But is it really a rejection? I don't know. He said he was sorry... That must mean that he doesn't feel the same right?

Kenny mumbles out an "mhm..." and after that neither of us says another word. We both just lay there and await sleep. I think bad thought, about how Kenny could never love me, and then I start to cry for real. I silently sob into the pillow. I don't know if Kenny is awake or if he can hear me or not, but I really hope he's asleep already.

I'm really pathetic. It's been 6 years and I still can't let go. Why? Why am I so stupid...?


	2. Kenny McCormick - My Sweet Escape

To be honest I don't really get what's going on right now... It was probably really stupid to return to South Park. I didn't plan to run into someone from my past. Fucking Stan Marsh. He always shows up at the right time... I shouldn't be here. No. I can't be here, damn it. I'll mess everything up. I'll hurt him. Wait. I already have.

What the hell though? Stan was in love with me? I never knew. Doesn't matter. Too late to fix anything. I can hear him crying, doing his best to stay quiet and I feel bad for him. Why did I have to hurt him like this? I'm messed up beyond belief and I can't do anything right but...

Fuck. I'm sobering up. Damn it!

* * *

This time I can't really escape. I can't do anything about it. I can't get back to my high now. Not when Stan is crying, half asleep just next to me. The drugs are in my backpack, and it's too far away to reach. There's no way I could be discrete about it. If I reach out I'll get caught. That's the least that I need right now. My childhood friend looking down on me.

If I were to let myself sober up I'd look down on myself too... I'd probably even hate myself. Who wouldn't though? I'd probably end up hating my life and what I've become. I'd freak out. I'd break. I'd panic. Like that one time in the past when I tried to quit. But fuck that. I don't need to quit, cause when my head is messed up I feel content. Happy. Calm. At peace. So this is enough.

Drugs change people. Trust me, I know. I've experimented with a lot of different ones, just cause I could. Some of them fuck your head up completely and you do more stupid shit than you could ever imagine, others get you insanely trippy and you just sit there talking to your hallucinations... And then there are those drugs that do neither of those things. Heroin is kinda one of those.

Heroin just feels nice. Yeah... Heroin is nice. When I take it I kinda feel calm as fuck and it's like everything in my life is perfect, when in reality I'm a male prostitute wandering the streets, fucking around just to get more money for heroin. It probably sounds like shit to most people but... Most people don't do heroin...? So they can't possibly understand. I'd feel bad if I was properly sober. But that ain't happening. That's just how it is.

I'm alright with this. There's only one problem though. Heroin builds up a tolerance fast. You'll need more and more money as it continues, cause the amount of heroin that got you high just a week ago might not be anywhere near good enough anymore. That's one of the only thing that I really dislike about heroin... and maybe the whole withdrawal thing... When the heroin starts to leave your system there will be a lot of annoying side effects. I myself throw up a lot, and sometimes anxiety hits me pretty hard. There is a possibility that something along those lines might happen any fucking minute now. Please don't happen.

Except for that there isn't much that is bad about heroin. But I'd advice you to not overdose I guess... Doesn't really affect me though, since I'm fucking immortal cause of the entire weird cult of Cthulu thing...

* * *

For me the good outweighs the bad with heroin. Many people would think it's really self destructive but what do they know? Not a single fuck. To me it feels kinda like the opposite. I think it's more like self help than anything else.

The withdrawal doesn't seem to kick in strangely enough and I fall asleep, with Stan's sad sniffling still in the background. I feel guilty about making him hurt.

What do I think about Stan? I don't know. I'm too fucked up beyond belief so this is a bad idea. Even though it'd be nice it's still a really bad idea. He's probably still into me, or he wouldn't be laying here fucking bawling. A relationship with Stan is a sweet thought really. But Stan is good. I'm not. I'm a white trash heroin addict with a lot of baggage. Stan can't deal with it. I'm sorry Stan... This is for your own good...

Morning soon arrives. FUCK. The withdrawal is kinda messing me up real bad. When I wake up I'm shaking like a fucking earthquake. I'm shaking worse than Tweek does when he has had way too much coffee and also gets a fucking anxiety attack. And I'm nauseous. So nauseous. So damn nauseous. I sit up and I fight the urge to throw up right here on myself and Stan's couch.

I look towards the bed desperately. Stan is still asleep. Good. I quickly stand up, grab my backpack and make a run towards the bathroom. Please. Don't let this wake him up.

As soon as I get into the bathroom I shut and lock the door behind me. Two seconds later I'm hurling into the toilet.

* * *

I vomit worse than Clyde did that one time at a party in 9th grade after he drank way too much rum and then ate like half a ton of cookie dough. It was pretty funny actually. Clyde is a blackout drunk so afterwards he didn't remember a thing from the night. He flipped his shit when he woke up with a massive hangover, naked in Bebe's bathtub. He was covered in his own vomit, and also Cartman's vomit... Cartman got nauseous too sometime that night and he was planning to aim for the toilet but when he found Clyde passed out in the bathtub it just kinda happened. And then he proceeded to take pictures of Clyde. Of course he blackmailed him several times with them. He can probably still do that if he wants.

Anyway. Let's just say that I vomited a lot just now.

I sit up a bit better and I wipe my face with the back of my hand. I feel kinda gross. I'm still shaking, and I can already tell that it's getting even worse. I reach for my backpack and I desperately scramble through it as fast as I can. I find what I'm looking for and I pull up my shirtsleeve. I grab the syringe and inject the content into my left arm in one swift motion. This is my escape. My escape from all of the things that hurt. Maybe I'm just running away... But it works. It makes me feel better.

Right away I can feel the drug starting to spread throughout my bloodstream. When it comes to the different ways of using heroin, I like the injections the most. It kinda gets into the system the fastest. I think it's the easiest way too.

I look down at my arm. There's many scars and bruised marks along it from the injections. From the newest mark there's a strange yellow liquid oozing out. It got infected again, like it always does. Whatever. I can barely feel anything from it. I've built up a pretty good tolerance to pain over the years now...

* * *

My arm isn't the prettiest sight. That's why I picked a long sleeved shirt from Stan's wardrobe. I don't want him to see it. I actually smile at the sight of my arm. It's all totally worth it. I feel great. Life is wonderful really. The syringe falls out of my hand and it drops to the floor. I sigh loudly as I feel the heroin pumping through my bloodstream. It's nice. I feel so relaxed right now. I've fed my addiction and the withdrawal is completely gone.

I fall back on the floor. I lay down and look up at the ceiling, while just feeling happy and content.

I then hear a knock on the bathroom door.

"You alright Kenny?" I can hear Stan asking carefully, sounding sleepy. "Did you just throw up?" I must've been too loud so I woke him up...

"My stomach was kinda upset. I feel better now though so don't worry." I answer. It isn't a lie. Not at all. I just left out some pieces of information. There is a difference... I think...

"You sure?" he questions. "I'm gonna go make breakfast... Do you think you could handle eating something as it is right now?" I can feel my stomach rumble a little.

"Dude I'm alright. I think I can eat." I tell him.

"Okay." Stan answers.

"Thanks for everything, man..." I say, while going back to just enjoying the feeling of having some freshly injected heroin in my system.

"No problem. Anytime Kenny." He says and then we are both silent. I can hear his footsteps as he walks away, towards the kitchen.

* * *

Stan definitely still has feelings for me. Damn. He's good looking and I just feel kinda funny thinking about it. There's this thing called sexual attraction and if you aren't sexually attracted to Stan Marsh you're either completely asexual, blind or just plain retarded (like Cartman basically). Stan is REALLY good looking. He has big blue eyes, a beautifully defined jawline, messy, soft, black hair, and a great body. He's pretty tall, quiet a lot taller than short little me and he's muscular but still kinda skinny. His pale skin looks completely flawless. And damn. That ass. Best booty in the universe. 10/10. I can say without a doubt that I'd fuck Stan Marsh anytime if I could. But it'd be a shit idea right now. I'd mess him up, and not in the good way.

When I still lived here in town I never noticed any of these thing. Stan was my best friend at that time and I was with Craig Tucker so he was the only one I had eyes for. But today I can say that I fucking hate Craig Tucker and he can go fuck himself in the ass with a dead fish for all I care.

* * *

I continue laying on the floor for a moment, while my mind wanders because of the sweet bliss that is called heroin. I then sit up and wash out my mouth with water from the sink, wanting to get rid of the taste of vomit. It doesn't really work cause I can still faintly taste it. Whatever. Life is great. I pull my sleeve down and the syringe gets shoved into my backpack again.

I leave the bathroom and I put the backpack on the living room floor again before I pop through the door to the kitchen. Stan is standing there in an apron while he's frying something in a pan. I can't properly see what it is from this distance.

Did I mention that my eyesight is kinda bad and I actually need glasses? I refuse though. I'd rather buy heroin than glasses. It's that simple. I can deal with it. I value my current happiness over actually having good living standards. That's just how I prioritize. If it isn't gonna kill me to not buy something then I will most likely buy heroin for the money instead. Heck even if it would kill me I'd still buy heroin. Ah... The benefits of being dumb, addicted and immortal.

* * *

"What are you cooking?" I ask, feeling my stomach rumbling again. I wonder... When did I last eat a proper meal? No idea. I basically live on poptarts and ice cream nowadays... Who even cares if I'm malnourished? I'll be fine anyway. I'm good. No. I'm great. For real.

Stan looks towards me and he smiles gently. I notice that he has a very beautiful smile.

"Pancakes." He states.

"Nice..." I simply say. I seem to lack basic skills in communicating with him nowadays. It's kinda awkward talking to your childhood friend who is doing way better than you, while also knowing that they like you in a not so platonic way... And I suppose that I'm not a very talkative person either.

"So what are you planning on doing now? Where are you gonna go?" Stan asks me, and he sounds a little sad. You're so seethrough Stanley.

He's sad cause he knows that I'll leave and he wants me to stay. So now he's gonna try and make me stay for a while. I don't mind. Maybe I'd even get some action... Would be pretty nice. Maybe there wouldn't even be any hurt feeling? Maybe it would just be something casual? Eh, whatever. I still just wanna fuck him.

Could you please just stop thinking with your dick for a second Kenny...?!

"I'm going wherever life takes me..." I answer his question kinda strangely and he smiles again.

"You should stick around here for a while... It's nice with some company." Stan tells me. I knew it. I grin at him. I thought life was good just a moment ago... I think it could get a whole lot better soon. With just some luck and some seduction skills it'll all be perfect.

"Yeah... I think that I'll probably do that. If you can just deal with all of my issues that is..."

"What issues?" Stan asks with a somewhat sad and confused look. I just shrug. It's all too hard to explain really...

"I don't know... I have too many of them." Is all that I say.


	3. Stan Marsh - Tell Me

It's been two days since Kenny first showed up at my house. I'm handling it all better than expected. At least I haven't cried since the first night... The days flew past pretty quickly. It's the weekend now and I don't have to work for two days. I was kinda worried about leaving Kenny alone at home when I was at work these past days but it actually worked out. All he did was basically watching TV and stealing my food. I don't really mind that. As long as he's happy I guess...

There's still something that's off. Something that's wrong. Why is Kenny acting so strangely? He's so carefree and calm... He's always been a bit like that but... This is much more extreme than the old Kenny...

* * *

It's early Saturday morning and Kenny has occupied the bathroom for the last 45 minutes. I knock on the bathroom door.

"Kenny... You've been in there for quite a long while... I thought you said you were only gonna take a shower...?" I ask.

"I haven't done anything else!" He tells me. Still that strange tone in his voice... "I'm drying off right now!"

"Sure. Would you hurry up a little?" I say.

"Of course! I'll be done in 5 minutes!" He answers.

So I wait 5 minutes. And then I wait 10 minutes. I knock on the door again.

"Kenny... You said 5 minutes..." I tell him while feeling extremely annoyed... I kinda need to pee here...

No answer. I knock once again but a bit louder. Still no answer.

"KENNY!" I practically yell... "I know you can hear me... Open the fucking door." What the hell is he doing?

I can hear him move and he's making some strange, small sounds but he doesn't say a single real word.

"Kenny. I'm opening the door." I say with a determined voice.

For a moment I search for an item that I could use to pick the lock with. I find an old hair clip that was once Wendy's. I don't really know why it's laying around here but whatever. It'll work for this type of thing. I pick the lock easily and the door flungs open.

* * *

I gasp and stare at the sight in front of me in horror. Kenny is laying there, spread out on the floor, basically completely naked, but thankfully with a towel wrapped around his waist, covering his "private area". He might've fallen asleep or he might've passed out. I don't know.

Both of his naked arms have strange marks on them. There's strange scars and dots and bruises all over. Most of them look pretty horrible and must've somehow gotten infected. There's one that looks really fresh. Some strange liquid, combined with blood is oozing out of that one. What are those from?

On the floor next to Kenny lays two syringes. Neither of them has any content left in them.

I can feel my eyes starting to water. So this is why. This is why Kenny hasn't been acting like himself. How didn't I realize it before? How didn't I see the signs? Is this why Kenny left town? I wonder...

I sit down on the floor next to him and I place his head in my lap. I'm not wearing any pants at the moment, just a pair of boxers, so I can feel his wet hair against my bare thighs. Tears start to spill from my eyes and I sob loudly. I look at the unconscious boy in front of me and the tears that fall hits his peaceful looking face.

* * *

After a few moments his eyes flutter open. One of his shaky hands reaches out and cups my cheek.

"Stan..." He says quietly.

"Kenny." I say in a surprisingly firm voice. "Is this what you've been doing while you were gone?"

"Yeah... Pretty much..." He says and then he smiles. No Kenny. This is nothing to smile about. This is just horrible. Don't you realize? Don't you realize what you're doing to yourself?

"What exactly are you on?" I ask, and I sound a bit harsher than intended. Kenny is still smiling and it's driving me insane.

"Heroin." He says. "I'm doing heroin."

"You've been getting high on heroin in my bathroom for the past 2 days?" I ask, feeling slightly angry, but more betrayed.

"Yeah. I have." He says, and then he sits up himself. When he's gone from my lap I stand up. Kenny. No. You can't be fucking serious. What the hell? No. More tears fall down my face. Damn it. If I had just been by his side more when we were younger, then maybe it wouldn't have turned out like this. When I developed feelings for him I think I started to distance myself. I pushed him away. If I hadn't done that, then maybe he wouldn't have left. Maybe he would've come to me instead of disappearing. I still don't know what made him leave so many years ago. What made him do this? What is he running from?

* * *

"Why?!" I ask, suddenly feeling angry. "Why the fuck would you do this?!" I'm almost yelling at this point. Kenny blinks at me and his eyes look a little sad.

"Because it hurt. It hurt so fucking much. Heroin was an easy way out. An escape." Kenny says and stands up. He looks a bit less content with everything now. He's almost sad. Just almost. "It was convenient and it was nice. Heroin is nice."

"Heroin is nice? Is that your fucking reason?!" I ask.

"Yeah. I guess so..." He tells me and he smiles a little. That smile looks really fake. Tears are still escaping my eyes and I don't really know what's going on.

"Bullshit. There's a lot more to it. You're hiding things. You're not telling me what happened." I say, and my heart aches. Kenny has been messing himself up so badly for so long now... I wasn't there. I wasn't there when he needed me. "What exactly happened so many years ago? Why did you leave? Be honest Kenny." He looks at me with those sad eyes before he speaks.

"Do you want to know? Do you really want to know everything?" He asks. "Do you really want me to tell you?"

"Yes." I say. "Don't leave anything out. You owe me this much." He nods.

* * *

"You know... Things started off good with Craig. It wasn't perfect, of course it wasn't, but I think that we had our fun times. Yet soon we ended up in a routine. We fucked, we drank, we smoked and sometimes we did some drugs. I tried whatever Craig got his hands on really. Many drugs get you all weird and trippy, or completely messed up in the head. But when we tried heroin it wasn't like that. Heroin is more mellow and it's calming instead I guess. You just kinda feel content and at peace... You don't get as many weird side effects either." He takes a small break and struggles to find the right words.

"At first I just kinda tried it once and that was that... I didn't feel the need to continue. But then... Things changed..."

"Changed how?" I ask.

"I'm getting to that... Things started to get a little rocky between me and Craig... I didn't notice until it was too late. Craig dumped me. It wasn't a nice breakup really... Craig told me things like... That he never loved me, and that he only was with me cause he liked to fuck me..." Kenny's eyes are almost watering at this point. It hurts so much seeing him like this. This huge mess that is Kenny McCormick, I still love him so much... I can't believe how anyone would ever say that. Why would anyone ever hurt him like this? And why Craig?

"He told me that he had been cheating on me. For several months. Almost since the beginning... He had been fucking Clyde behind my back all along." Kenny is in fact crying for real now and tears escape his eyes. I take a step closer to him and I wrap my arms around him. I hug him close and he rests his head on my shoulder. "Thank you Stan..." He mumbles before he continues his story.

"I couldn't take it. I really couldn't. It was all too much and in a weak moment I resorted to heroin... I was high and stupid when I came up with an idea. I decided to run away from home. I took a bus and ended up in Boulder... I kinda just tried to hide and I waited it out until people stopped looking for me. I continued doing heroin and it soon started to form an addiction. The tolerance built up fast and I was running out of money to buy more. I needed it. More than anything. I hated the world and everyone in it. Heroin was the only thing that I actually liked. Heroin was all I cared about. I desperately needed the money and I resorted to prostitution. Whenever the cops would start to get a little nosy I would just leave town. And before I knew it I ended up back here again... I barely realized that 6 years had past... Cause I'd been standing still for so long and the days just kinda melted together..."

"Kenny... You can't do this anymore... Don't you see what you're doing? You're breaking yourself... You're just making it worse by hiding and suppressing it with drugs... You have to quit..." I tell him gently while hugging him close. He's still crying in my arms.

"I don't care. I don't want to, Stan... It feels nice and I like it. You can't just come here and tell me to quit after 6 fucking years..." His voice sounds shaky and fragile. I put my hands on his shoulders and I push him away a bit so I can look him in the eyes.

"Kenny. I won't let you do this anymore. Please. Don't make it harder than it has to be." I say. God damn it. I love him. This mess... I'll fix it. I'll fix him. I have to. I can't let this go on. He's been hurting for 6 years now. It needs to stop. I need to stop it. I love you Kenny.

"I don't really see the point... But if it means so much to you then I'll try." Kenny tells me and smiles a little through the tears. "It won't be easy but... Just support me as best as you can and it'll be alright." He says gently. I nod at that.

"I'll always support you Kenny." I answer and I smile back at him. "I'm here whenever you need me."

* * *

I want to kiss him then and there on the spot. But I don't. Because I'm scared of rejection. I hold myself back... Cause he can't possibly love me... And he doesn't need to think about that kind of things... Not when he himself is so messed up. But he does look very irresistible right now... All of his beautiful skin being exposed like this...


	4. Kenny McCormick - I Need A Distraction

Damn it. Damn it. DAMN IT. It's been 8 hours since my talk with Stan and withdrawal is taking it's effect. I've been in the bathroom vomiting for like the past 10 minutes and I'm shaking like an earthquake again. I can't deal with this. I need my heroin. I need it really bad. I need it more than Tweek Tweak needs his coffee or more than Craig Dickhead Tucker needs his cigarettes.

Tucker. No. No. No. Stop it brain. I can't deal with this right now. I'm already basically going crazy. I need heroin. Now. Please. NOW!

But I can't take any. Stan is watching me constantly... Why did I even agree to this? I didn't wanna disappoint him, that's why. I don't want to disappoint Stan. I like it here. I like staying here and sleeping on his couch. I like having a roof over my head, a fridge filled with food, and a place to stay. I like having company from someone that isn't a hobo or another hooker hanging on the streets... Stan is nice. Stan is supportive and strong and tries to help me however he can, even if he can't do much right now... And a bonus is that he's hot. Real hot.

Quitting heroin feels impossible right now. Any thought I have gets almost completely suppressed by the damn urge to inject more of the drug. I've tried quitting once before. Didn't work out. Not at all. I tried basically everything to distract myself. I drank, I smoked, I self harmed. Nothing worked. I even committed suicide... Didn't work either. When I came back I still had the same withdrawal symptoms and the same damn need for heroin. It never went away. That time I gave in after I think 18 hours, 6 of them while being dead, without heroin. Couldn't deal with it.

* * *

When I've stopped vomiting and I have nothing left at all in my stomach, an idea hits me. Maybe not my brightest one, but an idea nontheless. Stan is doing everything to help me... Maybe I could get him to have some "fun" with me... I could guilt trip him into having sex with me... It should work pretty alright as a distraction? I think that I might be able to pull it off... He wants me really badly anyway so it'll be alright. It's like I'm kinda doing him a favor actually...

Somehow I decide that this is a good plan, even though rationally speaking it probably isn't... Stan is in love with me. He would comply if I tried doing anything... But he might also get hurt emotionally in the process. Am I just using him now? Probably... But I'm selfish... And maybe he would like to be used?

* * *

That night I decide to make a move. We are both in the kitchen and it's right after dinner. Somehow I've gotten a small portion of pasta into my stomach without throwing up yet. The dishes have been washed and Stan is sitting on the kitchen counter, dangling his legs and humming a song. It's kinda cute actually.

"Whatcha humming?" I ask curiously even though it's hard to stay focused since I need my heroin. So badly.

"Just an old song I liked a lot when I was a kid... All Out Of Love by Air Supply..." He says a little awkwardly.

"Dude... You listened to that song like a billion times when Wendy broke up with you in 4th grade..." I answer, feeling a little surprised.

"Heh... Yeah I know. My love life isn't all that great now either..." Stan says with a sad smile on his lips.

"How come?" I ask, while wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. Stan looks at me a little funny before he answers.

"The person I like isn't really into me..." Stan tells me and his eyes meet mine.

"You sure?" I ask.

"I'm pretty sure..." He says, looking sad.

"Hey Stan..." I say then. I need to hurry this conversation along a little. I can't fucking take it. Heroin. I need it. I need it. I NEED IT. Please. I hope this isn't too forward...

"Yeah?"

"Have sex with me." I say bluntly. He blinks at me in disbelief for a moment before he just gives me an odd look.

"What did you just say?" He asks, completely dumbfounded.

"Fuck me Stan Marsh... Please. Fuck me. I need you. Now please." I practically beg him.

"Is this one of your sick jokes Kenny?" Stan asks and he sounds a bit hurt.

"No no no! It's not. I know that you're kinda into me and I... I really really need something else to think about. A distraction. I can't fucking take it. I need heroin. It's driving me nuts!" I explain quickly.

"The best way to distract yourself is by getting a dick up your ass?" Stan asks, looking at me like I'm really fucking dumb. Well. Whatever. I kinda am.

"I've tried quitting heroin before. I think this would be the best way... Please. It'll be fun... For the both of us?" I try my hardest to convince him. The look on Stan's face tells me that he's conflicted. He really wants to fuck me... But he doesn't want to get emotionally hurt.

"Would this just be a one time thing?" He asks.

"I guess... Unless you want to do it again..." I say, and I make a little suggestive smirk at him. "Please Stanley..."

"I'll do it. Just this once." He tells me seriously. I smile a little. Please say that this helps. I can't take it. I really can't take it much longer. I'll relapse and fuck everything up soon if nothing changes...

Stan hops down from the counter and walks forward. He stops right in front of me. Stan's quite a bit taller than me. My head ends at about his nose tip.

"Want to get to the bed then?" He asks me awkwardly. I shake my head.

"Here is fine..." I tell him before I move forward.

* * *

I wrap my arms around his neck and I stand on my tiptoes. Stan seems to get the deal and his arms snake around my waist. He pulls our bodies close together and leans down a little. Our lips connect, gently at first. I put a little more force into it and Stan catches on. I open my mouth wide and I give him full access. His tongue enters my mouth and explores the cavern eagerly. We sloppily make out for a few minutes and hands start to roam.

Our lips disconnect and then Stan's lips soon end up on my neck, sucking gently at the skin. It's really nice. One of his hands is feeling up my chest underneath my shirt, while the other one is unzipping my pants. My own hands are both tangled into Stan's soft, black hair. I can already say that this is a fairly good distraction.

Stan starts to nibble on the sensitive skin around my collarbone and I let out a small moan at that. I can feel how his lips turn into a smirk against my skin for a moment before he continues to nibble, this time a little more roughly. My pants are completely unzipped and he has pushed them down to my knees.

Stan pulls away for a few seconds and he then roughly removes the t-shirt that I'm wearing. His lips are back on my collarbone a second later. I let out another moan. One of his hands reaches out and strokes me slowly through my boxers, while the other hand plays a little with my nipple. It's all too much. It feels amazing. I never knew that Stan was this good at these kinds of things.

For a brief moment he pulls his head up and our eyes lock. His eyes look different from usual. They're darker. And they're filled with lust. I smile a little at that. He looks at me with a dead serious expression before he speaks.

"I'll make you cum in your underwear." He says before he leans in for a kiss. I didn't expect him to say that so I'm frozen in place for a second. What the...? He starts to squeeze my member a little harder and I moan into the kiss.

* * *

I'm kinda chocked when I realize that I don't think about the need for heroin anymore. Perfect. This is perfect. Kenny you're pretty brilliant... I'm all too caught up in the moment, and too hypnotized by Stan's touches, to care at all about heroin.

Stan's lips leave mine and soon he leans down so his tongue licks one of my nipples carefully. He soon proceeds to start sucking on it while one hand plays with my other nipple and his second hand pumps my member. The pace he's going at soon starts to get rougher and faster and I can't take it. It feels absolutely amazing.

He indeed does make me cum in my underwear, just a moment later. The wave hits me hard and I'm left there shaking, barely able to stand up.

"You done already?" He asks, sounding a little disappointed and also quite teasing.

"Moron. I easily can do another round. Probably at least three more if you're up for it." I answer while panting a little. "We haven't even gotten to the best part."

"Well then..." Stan says seductively. "What do you want to do now?" I can tell you what I don't want to do right now... Heroin... What the hell?

"How about some penetration?" I ask, and wiggle my eyebrows a little again. Stan smirks at me.

"Is that what you want...? How about you beg for it then?" I didn't know that Stan was this type of person when it came to sex... Totally unexpected really. Whatever. I've been a prostitute for a while now so I've done a lot more degrading things than this...

"Please Stanley. I need your dick deep inside me. I need you now. Please. I need you to pound my ass." I don't even know what I'm saying but whatever, it works.

"Good enough." Stan tells me, and before I know it I'm pushed up against the wall with Stan in front of me. I pull my pants down completely and they're discarded on the floor next to us. I'm now only wearing my cum stained boxers, while Stan is still completely dressed.

I smirk a little before I reach my hands out and grab fistfuls of fabric from his shirt. I pull at it roughly and the shirt rips, just like I wanted it to. The now torn shirt is discarded as well.

"You're lucky that I didn't wear a nice shirt today." Stan tells me, before he grabs my boxers and he pulls them down. I make a small whining noise when my once again erect member is out in the free air. Half a second later I'm suddenly spun around and I'm facing the wall. "Lean forward and spread your legs a little, would you?" Stan directs me and I comply.

* * *

I turn my face around a bit and look at him for a moment. One hand is up to his face and he has three fingers in his mouth. His other hand is reaching down towards his pants and unzips them. He looks pretty concentrated. When his fingers are coated enough with saliva he removes them from his face.

"Sorry... I don't have any lube..." He says, sounding somewhat awkward again, before he pushes two fingers inside of me. The fingers start to move and use scissoring motions in order to stretch me so that Stan will be able to fit without much unnecessary pain. It feels kinda strange. I can't wait for him to really fill me up though...

"It's okay..." I tell him. "I've done it dry a few times, I can deal with this."

"If you say so." He answers and adds a third finger. This is when it starts to feel good and I moan a little when his fingers push inside a bit further and brushes against a real nice spot. His fingers withdraw somewhat, before they slam right back in and hit the spot hard. I moan loudly. It feels too amazing.

* * *

His fingers leave me altogether and I whimper at the loss of stimulation. Stan grins a little at me. He then spits on his hand and coats his now free member as best as he can, before positioning himself.

"Ready?" He asks, and he sounds very gentle. It contrasts how he's been acting during most of this up until now. Stan is acting kinda strangely... I wonder what's going through his head right now.

"Yeah. Anytime." I answer and I place my hands on the kitchen wall in order to steady myself.

Stan pushes inside kinda abruptly and I hiss out in pain for a second. When he's all inside he stands there completely still for a moment. I make a grimace. He's pretty big and it's been a while since I last did this so what did I even expect? No lube either so... Of course it would hurt. I thought I could deal with the pain better than I do though...

"You alright?" He asks carefully. One of his hands reaches out to my head and pets my hair a little. It feel kinda soothing and I relax a little.

"I'm fine. You can move now." I tell him.

"You sure?" He asks, still so carefully.

"Yes I'm sure!" I exclaim, feeling somewhat annoyed.

Stan then starts to move, slowly at first. He hits the completely right spot already with the first thrust. I moan gently. The pain is still there but it's not as prominent.

Stan continues to move and the pace quickens. He hits my prostate with every thrust and it makes me see stars. I tell him that he can be rough with me, cause I kinda like that and he is. I'm gonna be really sore later but who gives a fuck? I don't. This all feels too goooooooood!

Even though it feels like pure bliss my member is still kinda neglected, but just when I'm about to reach down and stroke myself Stan's hand is there instead. It moves fast and rough, in sync with his thrusting. I can't take it much longer. Not like this.

"S-Stan! I-I'm gonna..." I say, but then I get interrupted by my own moan.

"Me too..." He answers before he himself moans a little quietly. Stan isn't very loud while doing this... But it's fine cause I guess I'm loud enough for the both of us.

"Together?" I ask.

"Mmm..." Is the only answer that I get.

Less than half a minute later we cum, at about the same time, Stan in my ass, and me all over Stan's hand and the kitchen wall. We are both completely exhausted and I can barely stand up anymore. Stan gently pulls out, and I can feel the white liquid starting to leak from my hole. We both fall back on the kitchen floor next to each other, panting like crazy.

"You dirtied my wall..." Stan states, while still out of breath.

"Your fault..." I answer quietly.

"You're still the one who's gonna clean it up..." He tells me.

"Asshole..." I silently mutter. Stan then pulls me in for a hug and I comply. We lay there in silence for a while. My head is resting on his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around me.

It takes a few minutes, but when I've calmed down and all of the afterglow is gone, I feel it again. The addiction... I need heroin. Fuck. I need it. I start to shake and my stomach twists. I'm nauseous again... Damn. Already?

I'm forced to pull apart from Stan. He looks at me a little strangely. I quickly stumble to my feet and make a run for the bathroom. He silently whispers something that I don't quite hear from where he's laying on the floor. Doesn't really matter right now. I need to get to the bathroom. Even though my ass is throbbing and it hurts a lot I still run towards the bathroom. I get there just in time and I vomit again. I didn't get to keep the dinner in my stomach after all...

For a moment I forgot. For a moment I thought I was fine. But I guess I wasn't...


	5. Stan Marsh - What Am I Doing?

"I love you..." I whisper it quietly and he doesn't hear me. That's the point. I wanted to say it but I'm not strong enough to really tell him. So this'll do for now...

Kenny runs off towards the bathroom and a few seconds later I can hear the sound of his vomiting echo through the apartment.

I continue to lay here on the floor, feeling naked and forgotten, and so very used... What's going on? What the hell did I just do? Why did I agree to this? I knew all along that it'd only hurt me.

I love him. That's why. I love him so I want to be close to him. No. I need to be close to him. I love him so much. I already know that he doesn't feel the same way about me but... I'll take what I can get. It's that simple. As pathetic as it sounds, having sex with him is better than nothing. If that's all I can have then that's fine... If I can at least be connected to him in some way, I'm happy. I really am pathetic, aren't I?

Kenny said that it'd just be a one time thing if I wanted it to be... Do I want it to stop now? No. I don't think so... I know that it's pathetic. I know that it's wrong. I know that I'm being used. He doesn't' love me. I know that this will only hurt me in the end. But I still want to continue. I don't know what happened just now. I don't know what's going on. All I know is that it seems like Kenny and I are fuckbuddies now...?

I get up and start to redress again... I feel really tired, and emotionally drained. It hurts. My heart hurts. Yet I still feel somewhat satisfied... It's strange. I really don't understand.

* * *

The sexual relationship between Kenny and I continues. Later that night, the next time he wants to relieve some of his craving for heroin, he doesn't say anything. He just pulls me closer and he kisses me. The kiss is wanting, needing. I kinda like it, even though I hate seeing Kenny like this. His lips taste sweet, and a little bit like cinnamon, but at the moment a small hint of the taste of vomit still lingers. I don't say anything, cause if I did then he wouldn't kiss me anymore tonight... And I don't want that.

After our fun time is over, we end up laying next to each other in a sticky mess, with the bedsheets tangled around us. I don't care about that I'll need to change them tomorrow, cause this feels too fucking nice right now. We both fall asleep like this, closely pressed together.

Kenny fucking McCormick somehow manages to always get me so worked up. He makes me feel like a mess and I can't think clearly. It's like he's intoxicating. It's so easy for him to just use me for his own benefit, because he's always got me wrapped around his finger. But even if he's using me right now, it feels kinda nice... This is okay. It makes my life less mediocre, less dull. I guess I'm not stuck in those old repetitive routines anymore. I've gotten caught up in something else instead. For better or for worse.

* * *

The next day, in the afternoon, while Kenny is sitting on the couch watching TV, his withdrawal suddenly gets really bad again. But in a different way than before. His symptoms this time are oddly enough that of anxiety, or maybe possibly a panic attack. I'm not really sure, I don't know how these things work. I desperately try to reach him, talk to him, to calm him down, but he doesn't listen. He doesn't hear me. I try almost everything. The only thing that actually works is when I get down on my knees in front of him and unzip his pants. I place my mouth around his member and I suck. Kenny is completely chocked at what I'm doing, but he still moans loudly when I soon start to bob my head up and down. At least I snapped him out of his anxiety attack... I don't even know what I'm doing anymore... How did I even come up with this idea?

He warns me when he is about to come and he tries to pull my mouth away but I refuse. Whatever. I've already done this much... Might as well swallow it too. He comes pretty hard and even though I swallow as much as possible, some of the white, sticky fluid still leaves my mouth and runs down my chin.

When I pull away and Kenny has calmed down somewhat, he asks me if I want something in return. I just shrug.

"All I want is that you don't do any more fucking heroin." I say while wiping off my chin, sounding pretty indifferent, before I turn around to go to the kitchen. I should probably make some lunch.

It must be hard on Kenny. All of this. I can tell that he's trying his hardest to not go back to heroin and he suffers so much because of it. I feel really bad but... In the end I only want what's good for him. I love him too fucking much and it hurts. It hurts seeing him like this. It hurts knowing what he's been through. It hurts touching his body in intimate places, when I know that he can never be mine emotionally. It all just hurts right now, for the both of us. What's going on? I still don't really know...

* * *

I don't actually get to start making lunch when I get into the kitchen, because my phone starts to ring. I grab the cellphone out of my pocket and I check who it is. Kyle. My super best friend Kyle who lives in Boulder with Tweek and studies to become lawyer, like his dad. I decide to answer the phone.

"Hey. It's Stan." I say.

"Hi... I just called to check up on you. You haven't talked to me for a few days... What's up?" I can hear Kyle saying.

"Not much really... Just ended up needing to help out a friend... So I've been a little busy... Sorry for not calling lately." I tell him. For a moment Kyle is silent.

"...It's Kenny... Isn't it?" He then asks.

"What? How did you know?" I answer, feeling really surprised.

"Just my intuition." He says proudly. "It seemed pretty obvious from the way you're talking... You seem a bit distant, like when we were younger, when you had feelings for him..." Kyle explains.

"Seriously?" I ask.

"No, you dumbfuck." Kyle answers and chuckles a little.

"Huh?"

"I got a call from Ike just now. He told me that he saw you outside in the rain with Kenny a few days ago..." Kyle explains.

"Oh... Then I get it." I answer.

"Are you really alright with this? Your feelings for him messed you up pretty badly last time..." Kyle sounds worried. I can't blame him. I'd be worried too if I was him.

"I'm not alright..." I answer. "...We had sex..."

"What?!" Kyle almost yells. "...You... Slept with Kenny?" He's quieted down a little and the last part is barely above a whisper.

* * *

"I did sleep with Kenny. More than once." I admit. "He wants to do it, so I comply... I already know that I'm being used so you don't need to tell me that."

"I see. But why?" Kyle sounds almost sad.

"Because I still love him. I still love him, with every fiber in my body." I say, and I sound way more miserable than I intended for. "But I can't bother him with my feelings. He's pretty fucked up right now. I don't think he could handle any romance when he's like this."

"Then why are you sleeping with him?" Kyle asks. I expected him to sound angry, but he seems more curious than mad right now...

"Because he needs it." I answer. " He needs me, and he couldn't handle the fucking rejection right now either."

"How come?" Kyle asks. "What's wrong with him right now?"

"He's a heroin addict. I'm making him quit and he's getting all kinds of weird withdrawal symptoms right now..." I explain.

"Heroin?" Kyle asks, and he sounds almost devastated. "Is that why he left us 6 years ago?"

"Yes. And because Craig Tucker is a cheating asshole..." I explain. I'm not sure if I should tell Kyle all of this but... I can't possibly keep this all to myself right now. I need Kyle's support. He's my best friend, and I know that he'll always have my back.

"I see... Stan... I think you might be in way over your head this time..." Kyle says carefully, like he doesn't want me to get offended or mad.

"You're probably right Kyle..." I tell him. "What am I even doing...?"

"I wonder that too... You're only gonna get hurt from this..." He answers.

"I know. I already know... But it's too late to stop now. I can't just give up on him like that. I can't give up on Kenny when he's trying so hard. I just can't..." I explain.

"Stan... I'll always support you. No matter what you choose to do but... Please don't let this ruin you..." Kyle sounds so concerned and it makes me feel really guilty...

"I won't let this ruin me. I promise, Kyle." Can I really keep this promise?

"That's good..." He answers, while not entirely believing me. I don't believe in it either so it's alright...

"I gotta go Kyle... I need to make lunch." I say, even though I want to continue talking to him.

"Okay... I should probably go anyway... I need to find Tweek... Haven't seen him in a while... It's not good to leave him for too long... Cause you know... His anxiety and stuff..."

"Yeah. I understand. Take care Kyle." I say.

"You too Stan." He says, and my heart hurts at the way he says that. He sounds like he's worried sick because of this... I'm sorry Kyle.

* * *

He hangs up on me, and I'm left just standing there for a moment. I can feel my eyes starting to water and then I'm suddenly crying.

What am I doing?

For a second I miss my simple, dull life. I miss the routines and the calm of knowing what tomorrow will bring. Kenny just appeared again, and I fell again. I fell for him again and now I'm stuck. I'm stuck in a spiral of hurt, and so is he. But I love him. So I'll keep trying my best, for his sake. He needs me. It doesn't matter what happens to me, or how I feel, as long as Kenny will become better. The only person who would care about how I feel anyway is Kyle. But it's fine, because I know that Kyle will be just a phone call away when I do crack. If it all comes tumbling down, it wont affect many people around me. So it'll be alright. I'll be fine like this, somehow, as long as Kenny's doing better.

What am I doing?

I pick myself up and wipe my face off with my shirtsleeve, before I start making lunch.

Suddenly I don't feel all that happy about that I found Kenny in the rain these few days ago...


	6. Stan Marsh - It is too Good to be True

It's already been a week since Kenny quit heroin. Time flies by I guess. I still don't like leaving him alone when I need to go to work but... I don't really have a choice. I really don't have to sweat it though, cause he's doing good. He's doing better... Even though he's still struggling, it's going slightly better now.

Kenny says that he doesn't want to be a burden. That he should find his own place to stay, and not just get everything payed for by me. But I want him to stay. I want to have him by my side so I can look after him. And there is nowhere else for him to go anyway.

We still sleep with each other. I'm no longer sure if Kenny does it cause he wants to stop thinking about his addiction or because he just enjoys it. Cause he sure as hell seems to enjoy it... But maybe it's just a little bit of both?

Today I get off work earlier than I expected. When I'm about to leave for the day I come up with a good idea.

* * *

When I later get home I find Kenny laying on the couch watching old reruns of Sailor Moon on TV. That show is really fucking lame... But Kenny seems to be having fun so whatever.

"Yo." He greets me and waves, not looking away from the TV for even a second.

"Hey..." I answer. "I bought some booze... And how about we order pizza for dinner?" Kenny abruptly sits up and turns his face towards me. His eyes are wide and sparkling with happiness.

"Yes." He says in a determined voice. "Yes please."

"Awesome." I say and I give him a kind smile.

We soon end up sitting next to each other on the floor, with a huge pizza in between us. We're eating and drinking like there's no tomorrow. I've learnt that Kenny is really good at keeping his liquor. I get pretty fucking wasted, before Kenny is even starting to get tipsy. But he gets there soon too and we're both pretty much completely gone. We lost count on how many beers we've had and there is barely any rum left in the bottle that was full when we started.

* * *

"Damn. It's been too long since I've felt this gooooooood!" Kenny exclaims happily while slurring very noticeably. I laugh a little at him, even though nothing's funny. He starts laughing too.

"I feel exactly the same way!" I tell him, probably slurring even more than him. My head is spinning like crazy and I don't even know what's going on anymore. Fuck everything. Let's just have some fun tonight.

Kenny moves the now empty pizza box from in between us and he throws it across the room, almost like a Frisbee. I laugh at that too. Everything seems funny right now... He scoots closer to me and we are now sitting so close to each other that our thighs are pressed together. Kenny swings his arm around my shoulder and he grins happily.

"Stan." The way he says my name is just amazing. Even when he's drunk out of his mind, and slurring like crazy it still sounds like the most beautiful thing in the world to me. "You're the best friend a guy could ever ask for."

"Seriously?" I ask, somewhat surprised.

"Yeah man! You're like... Totally awesome. Always there for me when I need you and stuff... Even though I know that I just hurt you, over and over." Even if we're both insanely drunk I can still feel my heart racing at these compliments and at his gratefulness.

"Kenny... I'd do anything for you dude. I love you..." I don't realize what I'm saying until it's too late. Oops? Whatever. Too drunk to care. So what? I told him that I love him. What's the worst thing that could happen really?

"Stan." Kenny says my name again, with his sweet voice. I look straight at him and our eyes meet. A second later he leans closer and I think he's trying to kiss me... All he accomplishes is roughly bumping his nose into mine. He pulls away a bit and we both giggle a little, before I tilt my head a bit to the side. He now succeeds in pressing our lips together. It starts out soft, and gentle. I don't get it? I just confessed and he kisses me? Doesn't he realize what's going on? I could take this the wrong the way...? Well he is pretty drunk... But I am too so whatever.

Kenny soon deepens the kiss and he shoves his tongue into my mouth roughly. I almost jump at that since I'm not prepared for it. Our kiss soon evolves into a sloppy, drunken make out. It's kinda messy and it'd probably feel kinda bad if I was even slightly sober. But heck. These lips are Kenny's and this tongue is Kenny's and it's perfect. Even if it's still kinda shit, it's perfect.

* * *

We break apart for air after a while.

"When are you gonna realize it?" Kenny asks me then.

"Huh?" I'm confused as fuck now. Realize what exactly?

"That I love you too." He tells me with a serious look on his face.

"What?" I ask. The words don't really sink in and I'm just staring out into the empty air, probably with a dumbfounded look on my face.

"I love you Stanley." Kenny says, and just this once he doesn't slur whatsoever. I stare at him blankly.

"You do?" I ask, feeling really surprised.

"Yes I do, you asshat." He says and he's back to slurring. Suddenly I'm overjoyed. He loves me. He fucking loves me. Kenny fucking McCormick, the person I've been desperately in love with for over 6 years loves me back. I feel like screaming. This is amazing. Everything is perfect.

Kenny leans closer again and we kiss some more. I swear that I can feel tears sliding down my cheeks now, even though I don't really register that I'm crying. Kenny loves me. Nothing in the world matters anymore except for Kenny. Nothing matters. We pull apart from our kiss and he removes his shirt. He then pulls mine off too.

Kenny then pushes me down onto the floor and lays on top of me. He grins happily before his sloppy hands start to roam around my body. My head is spinning and it feels like I'm intoxicated. Wait... I am!

It all feels too good. Even if the touches themselves aren't that great, since he's pretty drunk and doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, it's still perfect. I get hard, just by the though of that I'm doing this with the person that I love, who also loves me. I think I'm already starting to sober up a little though... My head doesn't spin as much and I'm more aware of what's going on now.

* * *

All clothes are soon removed from our bodies and Kenny still lays there on top of me, his hand now reaching down to grab both of our members, while pressing them together. He moves his hand up and down roughly and it feels amazing like this. I soon moan loudly and I come, before Kenny has the chance to do so himself. He shrugs a little and silently looks at the mess I've made on both of our stomachs and on his hand.

Kenny stands up, not bothering to finish himself off and he offers me a hand, his clean one that is. He wipes off the sticky white liquid on his hand onto his already messy stomach, like he doesn't really care. I grab Kenny's hand and he pulls me to my feet.

We move to the bed before he pushes me back down on it, and lays on top of me again. Another make out then happens.

After a few more minutes of messy kissing and sloppy foreplay Kenny moves back a little and our lips disconnect. In place of his lips he shoves three fingers into my mouth. I moan a little when his other hand starts to slowly jerk me off while he makes me suck on his fingers.

"You okay with this?" Kenny asks gently when he removes his fingers from my mouth and starts leading them to my lower regions. I nod.

"I've never really bottomed before." I admit. "But if it's with you I'll be alright." I must really be sobering up cause I'm not even slurring anymore.

"I'll be as gentle as possible." Kenny tells me with a small smile, before he carefully inserts a first finger into my rectum. I gasp a little at the strange feeling. "You okay?" He asks.

"I'm fine. Just feels a little strange." I answer. "Keep going." And he does so. His finger slowly starts to move out again and then back in, while trying to stretch me enough to fit a second finger soon. Just the first finger doesn't hurt, but when he adds the second one it does hurt. I grimace a little at that.

"I'm sorry." Kenny says sadly. "You're really tight. It'll probably hurt quite a bit at first... Do you want to stop instead?" I shake my head. No I don't want to stop. But it's sweet of Kenny. Even when he's this drunk he's still so kind and caring.

"Keep going. I can handle it." I tell him and I smile.

* * *

He leans forward and he pecks my lips slightly, before he starts to move the two fingers again. Soon the pain from the second finger disappears and all that's left is the strange feeling of someone fingering my ass... Kenny then adds the third finger and he does his best to stretch me, with as little pain as possible. It's strange. Just moments ago he was just touching me in a messy way, but now it's like he knows exactly what to do... I don't really understand. But I guess I don't have to.

I love him. I love him so much and this moment right here just makes me feel so happy. I don't care about the pain in my butt. I can handle that. Because I'm doing this with Kenny. I'm giving him a part of me that I've never given to anyone before I guess. And that's all that really matters.

His fingers are soon done stretching me and he withdraws them. I whimper a little as they exit me.

"It'll be the worst in the beginning." He tells me. "Just try and relax and get used to the feeling a little... Not to scare you or anything but... It's gonna hurt like a motherfucker." Kenny explains. I nod and he then starts to position himself.

My legs end up being thrown over his shoulders. I can feel the tip of his member against my entrance and it's a little scary. But it'll be okay, cause I trust Kenny. He's not gonna cause me any extra pain on purpose.

Kenny leans forward and he pecks my lips again. He moves away a little and he smiles at me gently. I smile back. I give him a small nod to indicate that I'm ready.

Kenny carefully thrusts forward slowly and I feel a sharp pain right away. I make a hissing sound at that.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes, as he continues to push inside. He stops and stays still when he's completely inside. I can feel my eyes watering at the pain. Damn. I didn't know that anything could hurt this bad. It's almost unbearable... But no. It's too late to stop now. This'll feel good later right? I mean... Kenny usually really seems to enjoy taking it up the ass... I haven't been stretched enough yet is all. And Kenny hasn't found that spot that feels really good yet either so...

* * *

"Are you alright?" Kenny asks with such concern in his voice. "Do you want to stop?"

"No I'm fine." I tell him and I smile through the tears. "You can start moving now actually." I answer, even though I kinda don't want him to move. It hurts.

"You sure?"

"Yes I'm sure..." I say with a sigh. Kenny pecks my forehead and then he slowly and carefully starts to pull out, and then he thrusts back in.

It still hurts insanely much, it's like my ass is being ripped apart. But as he moves it starts to get a little bit better. Just a little. This pain is bearable, only because it's with Kenny.

Kenny reaches for my now almost limp dick and he strokes it in sync with his gentle thrusting. I can tell that Kenny is really trying to hold back, for the sake of me not hurting...

"Go faster!" I tell him, trying to fake a bit of pleasure. "Harder!" I say, even though it's not actually what I want. But it's what he wants. He doesn't really notice that I'm faking and he starts to move faster and his thrusts become rougher. It hurts, god it hurts. I pretend that I like it, cause I want to at least make Kenny feel good.

After a while of painful thrusting, Kenny suddenly hits something inside me. I moan loudly. He found the spot... He grins at me, before he starts slamming inside, hitting the spot with every single thrust. It still hurts like hell, but when he hits that spot it feels good too.

* * *

I can't handle it. The stimulation on my prostate, and the rough jerking of my dick. I'm soon pushed over the edge, and I come hard, once again on Kenny's hand and all over our stomachs... Kenny keeps on moving and a short moment later he comes as well. I can feel the strange fluid starting to fill up my ass...

Kenny then collapses on top of me and we lay like that for a while. I wrap my arms around his back and I hold him protectively.

"Was it good?" I ask him carefully.

"It was fucking amazing Stan." He says, and he sounds like he's pretty out of breath. "What about you?" I smile at him.

"It felt strange, and it hurt a lot but in the end I enjoyed it." I tell him with a smile on my lips. The main reason why I enjoyed it was because Kenny told me he loved me first though... The only reason I didn't quit, the only reason I didn't make him stop when it hurt so much is because he loves me. Because this meant something for him too.

"I'm glad." Kenny tells me.

He then carefully pulls out and moves off me. We lay on the bed side by side for a while, before I pull the sheets over the both of us. Even though we're both covered in sweat and semen. I'll change the sheets tomorrow. I've had to change them very often lately...

* * *

Kenny rolls over so he's on his side and he's looking away from me. I move closer and I decide to spoon with him. We lay like that for a few minutes before Kenny shakes me away a little. I move without questioning it. Kenny isn't much of a cuddler after sex...

A few minutes pass before either of us does anything.

"I love you, Kenny." I tell him now again. The blond, who is still laying on his side, facing away from me then gives me a strange answer...

"Oh, yeah? That's great..." He mumbles tiredly.

Then I get quiet. He didn't say it back... That's a little odd... He told me earlier that he loved me... Why couldn't he repeat it?

It kinda hurts... I feel used. I gave him a part of me that I'd never give to anyone else... And he doesn't even seem to appreciate it much. I thought it'd mean something...?

* * *

Kenny quickly falls asleep. I can hear him snoring next to me now. I bury my face in my pillow and I feel like crying. But I don't, cause my eyes are completely dry. I must've cried out all of my tears earlier when I was in pain earlier... A few dry sobs still escape me, though I don't cry.

I thought... I thought for a moment that Kenny and I could be something more than what we are... But maybe not... Because, does Kenny really love me? I don't know... Did he lie? I'll just have to ask him in the morning, when he's actually sober.


	7. Stan Marsh - It Was Never Like I Thought

I soon fall asleep and before I know it morning has arrived. I wake up when the sunlight seeps in through the window and hits my face. I immediately realize that I have a massive hangover and my head is throbbing painfully. I sit up tiredly and I grab my phone from the nightstand to check what time it is. It's 07.12.

I look towards the other side of the bed where Kenny is supposed to be laying. But he isn't there. That's strange... Kenny is never awake this early?

"Kenny?" I say loudly. No answer. Strange... What's he doing? Did he go to the bathroom and fall asleep there again or something?

I stand up. What the hell? I can feel a sharp pain in my butt region. Why does my ass hurt? It takes me a few seconds before I remember last night. Oh...

A swarm of emotions hits me and my eyes start to water a little.

"Kenny?!" I say a little louder, with my fragile voice. Still no answer.

I slowly start to walk, or more like limp. I grab my discarded boxers off the floor and I struggle to put them on. I'm shaky and I'm crying. I feel like utter shit.

* * *

What the hell is Kenny doing?

I note that his clothes aren't laying on the floor anymore. Huh... He must've picked them up.

I limp carefully to the kitchen. It still hurts like fuck. On my way there I notice that the dark red blanket that's usually on my couch is missing. Kenny must've moved it somewhere else...

Kenny is not in the kitchen at least. I kind of want a glass of orange juice or something...

When I open the fridge I notice that a lot of items in there are missing. Including my orange juice... Seems like Kenny ate a rather large snack in the middle of the night? What the hell?

I then proceed to go to the bathroom. The door opens with a creek. There's a wet towel on the floor. Kenny must've taken a shower... But he isn't here? Where could he have gone? He's not in the apartment? Where would he have gone then?

I silently pick up the towel, and when I do something falls from it onto the floor. I stare at the object.

* * *

No. No. No. No. No. He said that he got rid of every last one! No. He couldn't have! Not after all of this.

"KENNY!" I yell, as loud as I can, yet no one answers...

No. He couldn't have...?

I stare at the syringe on the floor in front of me.

Tears form in my eyes and I fall down to my knees. No. Kenny wouldn't. He can't have. I can feel the tears spilling down my cheeks and I sob loudly. Kenny betrayed me. Kenny came back into my life just to toy with my feelings, and just to leave again.

Kenny appeared that night in the rain. I took him in, and I fell again. I remembered how much I loved him and it all came back tenfold. I supported him, tried to help him. Then I found out that he was doing heroin. I tried to make him quit, and he reluctantly complied. I did everything to make him stay away from it. I started a sexual relationship with him, just because he wanted to stop thinking about heroin, even though I knew it'd mess me up.

I treated Kenny like a proper guest in my home the entire time. I cooked for him, did his laundry, cleaned, I did everything for him. Frankly, I was his little bitch.

Time passed and I thought it'd be a good idea to eat some pizza and get wasted together. It clearly wasn't. We ended up a little too close, and I just spilled it. I told him that I love him. He kissed me, and then... He told me that he loved me too. I thought it meant something. We then had sex, but in a different way from how we usually did. I bottomed. For the first time ever... I thought it meant something. But when I told him again, that I love him, he didn't say it back. It never meant a thing to him, did it?

* * *

"TRAITOR! I TRY TO HELP YOU AND THIS IS THE THANKS?!" I yell desperately. "I FUCKING LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU AND ALL I WANT TO DO IS HELP YOU! BUT YOU JUST TOYED WITH MY FEELINGS... YOU JUST USED ME... KENNY!" I continue yelling and then I just sob. I lay in a fetal position in just my underwear, on the bathroom floor, hugging the wet towel that Kenny left behind. I've never felt this low before in my entire life. I was tricked. He lied to me and told me he would quit heroin forever. He lied to me and told me that he loved me. All along he just played with my heart...

It takes a while... Maybe several hours, before I actually stand up and do something. I'm still such a mess, and I'm completely heartbroken, but I get up. And I limp over to the bed. Then I just fall back on it. I grab a pillow, the pillow Kenny used and I just hug it close to me. I inhale the scent of it. It smells kinda fruity, like my cheap shampoo... But it also smells a little different. It's a scent that's only Kenny's.

I sob even more violently as I hug the pillow closer to me. I grab my phone from the nightstand and I dial the number of the one person that I can actually talk to. When I hear that the phone is picked up I don't wait for him to say anything.

"Kyle. I broke the promise..." I say in a weak, shaky voice.

* * *

Kenny never really did love me. All he wanted was to fuck me up. He just wanted to screw me over and then go back to his precious heroin. And it fucking worked. I'm not the same. After Kenny left me I developed trust issues. I think the only person I actually trust anymore is Kyle.

At first I wait. At first I have this weird expectation that Kenny will soon come back, with a perfectly logical explanation to why he left, and that he will actually love me like he said he did. So I wait. For about a year, I just wait. After that year is over I become depressed. It lasts for two more years. Kyle tries his best to help me but it doesn't work. After those years pass too, I get angry, really fucking angry at Kenny, and that lasts for another two more. And then after that I just start to feel numb. Completely numb to any feeling that I harbored for Kenny McCormick.

It's been 10 years since he left for the second time. I'm 31 now and I do still love him. But I can't let it rule my life anymore. I've wasted enough time on that piece of white trash that's called Kenny McCormick. I'm way beyond the point of caring now.

I'm not doing great in life as of now, but I wouldn't say that I'm doing bad either. I'm alright. I've gotten a few promotions at work so now I'm actually the boss of some people. I also got a new apartment. It's bigger, and it actually has two bedrooms. even though only one is being used regularly. The second one gets occupied by Kyle, whenever he decides to come visit. Tweek came back to South Park after he finished studying, but Kyle still lives in Boulder, with his now soon to be wife. I've met her a few times and she's really nice, and also very beautiful. She seems to be good for Kyle so I have no objections. I'm gonna be Kyle's best man at the wedding. I still can't quite believe it.

Cartman and Wendy are married and even have kids now. 3 of them. Two daughters and a son. Both the son and the oldest daughter look extremely similar to Wendy, but the poor second daughter takes after her father... She's chubby and her face looks identical to Cartman's when he was a kid. I feel so sorry for her...

It's so strange to think that Cartman and Wendy have kids. It's surreal.

They've all gotten so far... But I...

I am going nowhere I guess. My own love life hasn't been the greatest after everything that happened with Kenny. But there's actually something going on between me and Craig Tucker at the moment. It's more just like a sexual thing than anything romantic... I think a dead snail would be more romantic than Craig to be honest. Stuff didn't work out with him and Clyde and since then we've had this thing going on. It's at least something. It's better than being completely alone...

I'm still not satisfied with my life but... It's alright. It could've ended up a lot worse after all.

* * *

One day when I least expect it, I get a strange phone call from Kyle.

"I just talked to Ike!" Kyle exclaims. "He saw Kenny behind the elementary school building just now! He was apparently pretty soaked because of the rain. Ike described it as if he looked like a drenched cat or something..."

"So?" Is all that I say, in a very monotone way. Huh... So he's back? Why?

"I just thought you should know." Kyle tells me carefully. "In case you want to confront Kenny about anything..."

"Thanks. But I'm not going." I tell him, and I almost sound sad. For the first time in long I actually feel sad thinking about Kenny McCormick again.

"How come?" Kyle asks, sounding both curious and worried.

"It'd just be a repeat of last time. I don't want to make that mistake a second time." I say, now back to the monotone voice.

"Okay. I understand..." Kyle says gently. "I just thought you should know, in case you wanted it to end differently..."

"It's fine like this. I'm finally okay again, after all that happened. I don't want to ruin that. I won't let him screw me over again." I tell him, and I almost smile. The way life is, isn't perfect. But at least it's alright now. Without Kenny McCormick. Even though I love him, I don't need him to be happy. I can be happy all by myself.

* * *

Kyle and I say our goodbyes and then we hang up. I grab my red, old, worn out umbrella and I walk out into the rain. I can almost see a faint orange color in the corner of my eye. I ignore it.

It's a lovely night and the rain makes small, very familiar sounds as it hits the pavement. There's one thing that hasn't changed over the years. I still love the rain. Tonight I decide to take a route that leads to the other side of town, as far away from the school as possible. I wouldn't wanna risk ruining this night...

I walk along in the rain, just like old times. I get this nostalgic feeling as I walk. It feels kinda pleasant, even if it's still unpleasant, remembering the past. When I walked in the rain many years ago, and found an old friend in an orange jacket, in need of help. I have the chance to meet him again, but I don't take that chance. I don't go. I don't need it. But maybe he needs it? If that's possible...

Yes. Tonight really is a lovely night.


	8. Kenny McCormick - Old Habits

When I wake up in the morning I feel a little confused. I've woken up in a warm bed for the past week or so. But now I'm laying here in a dumpster, with a stolen, red blanket wrapped around me.

It takes me a few minutes to remember what happened last night, and why I'm here.

* * *

Oh right. Stan. After we slept together last night, after I topped him... I fell asleep. But I woke up again about an hour later. I don't know why but... Withdrawal became especially bad and I just couldn't take it. I just couldn't. Stan wasn't awake so he couldn't stop me either.

I remembered that last syringe I had hidden in my backpack just in case. I never had the intention to quit for real. I only tried to so that Stan would be satisfied, and because I was curious of how long I could last. 7 days is how long that I lasted.

I scrambled to my feet and went to the bathroom. I looked through my backpack to find that one syringe that I had completely hidden from Stan. I doubted if I should do it for a second, but in the end I still injected it in my arm.

It was the most amazing feeling. After longing for it for 7 days, after craving it with my entire being, I finally could have it.

I just laid on the floor for a while, feeling extremely happy and mellow. Until I came to think about Stan. Oh fuck. He'd be pissed in the morning. I really didn't wanna see the disappointment in his eyes... I wouldn't be able to stand that. So I came up with an idea that seemed pretty great at the time.

I picked myself up and took a long warm shower. I then put my clothes back on. The ones that had been discarded on the floor earlier that night. I also grabbed Stan's wallet off the table in the living room and took 20 dollars. I then went to the kitchen. I grabbed quite a lot of food items from the fridge and shoved them down into the backpack. After that I went over to Stan, still sleeping soundly on his bed. I just looked at him for a moment. He looked so peaceful while asleep. But in the morning he'd have a different look on his face... And it wouldn't be a happy one.

* * *

I put my hand on his cheek carefully and I caressed it.

"I'm sorry... I wasn't strong enough." I whispered to the sleeping form. I then leaned down and pressed my lips to his warm forehead. I pecked it carefully before I pulled back. I couldn't look at him anymore. It hurt.

I turned around, and I started to walk towards the door. On my way out I grabbed the blanket from his couch and I took it with me.

"Farewell." I said quietly as I closed the door behind me and then I was gone. I think I was crying at the time. I don't know why. Maybe because I really care about Stan and I didn't wanna hurt him. But I had to go. I couldn't stay. There was no way. I'm not strong enough. I'm not willing enough. So I can't quit heroin. That's how it is.

I'm a weak coward. So I stole his shit and bailed when it started getting tough. In the end I never did anything good for Stan. I just messed with him. I just played with his feeling, and used him for sex and comfort. I don't deny that. But I never really meant to. It just happened, cause I'm selfish and stupid. I don't think he could ever forgive me for this.

What happened last night was a mistake. All of it. Stan has probably woken up now, and he has noticed that I'm gone, and that there's still a syringe laying in the bathroom. I hate myself, cause I know that I've hurt him so much. And I think he'll continue to hurt for a long time.

* * *

I sit up and rub my tired eyes. I should get going. I need more heroin soon... And I need to get out of here... Wouldn't wanna bump into anyone I know again...

I decide that I should go back to North Park. It's not too far, and I know a guy there who sells heroin for a fairly reasonable price. I shove the blanket down into my backpack, before throwing it over my shoulder and starting to walk.

* * *

At least I learned something from this experience, even if it was at Stan's expense... You can't quit because someone else wants you to. You have to quit cause you want to do it yourself. Otherwise you'll probably just halfass it and fuck up. Like I did. I know that Stan just wanted to help, that he wanted to save me. But can you really be saved, when you don't want to be saved?

I fall back into my old habits. Drugs and prostitution. Same old, same old. Years pass by quickly. For a while I forget all about my encounter with Stan Marsh when we were 21. If you'd ask me at age 25, who Stan Marsh was, I wouldn't really know. It's like he just vanished from my memory for a while, like I blocked him out maybe.

But when I'm about to turn 31 I start to remember. I remember Stan, after 10 years. How I used to care so much for him. And suddenly I want to go back. Suddenly I want to be 21 again and I want to suffer from withdrawal. I want to be with that person and have something that's like a home. A place to go.

That's when I make a decision. I think I'm ready to be saved now. I think I've done enough of this. I'm sick of it. I go back to South Park.

Stan doesn't live where he used to live. I knocked on the door but someone else opened. Some old man I've never seen before. Turns out he'd been living there for the past 5 years. This night can't possibly get much worse, can it?

I don't have any heroin now. I'm already starting to suffer from withdrawal again. Why did I show up? It's not like Stan would want to see me again, even if he would've still lived there. Not after what happened 10 years ago... I still don't think that he can ever forgive me for that.

* * *

It's raining tonight... It's freaky, how similar everything looks to last time... I end up sitting at the same spot. The goth kids old hangout. I'm drenched and it's cold. Oh, how I miss Stan. For a second I think I see him. A tall, black haired guy with a red umbrella walks past. I say hi.

"Kenny?" The boy asks in a strange voice that can't be Stan's. When I look closely at the boys face I realize that the guy is a Canadian.

"Ike?" The boy nods.

"What are you doing here?" Ike asks me. He looks pretty surprised.

"I wanted to visit Stan..." I tell him.

"You sure that's a good idea?" He asks me carefully. "Kyle said you messed him up pretty bad last time..."

"I know I did..." I answer, sounding sad. "I want to try and make it up to him... But I don't know how..."

"I see..."

"Uhm... Do you know where he lives now?" I ask.

"Yeah... Just over there." Ike points to one of the houses further down the streets.

"Thanks." I say and stand up. Ike shakes his head.

"I don't think you should go there quite yet though." Ike tells me. "I'll call Kyle and tell him that you're here... He'll inform Stan... I think he's the only one who could talk to Stan about this. If Stan shows up here, he wants to see you. If not then you should stay away."

"You're right. Thanks a lot Ike..."

"No problem really..." He says with a smile. I smile back. We say our goodbyes and he walks off while calling Kyle...

* * *

I wait. For 15 minutes. Before I stand up and start to walk. I'm in front of the school building now... But just then... I see the door to Stan's apartment opening. He still looks the same, but the umbrella is old and very worn out now...

For a second I think that Stan is gonna turn left and come to meet me. But no. He doesn't even look in this direction. He takes a right turn and he walks along the streets. Further and further away from me. I stare at him in disbelief.

It hurts. He really doesn't want to see me... Tears form in my eyes and I start to cry.

I wonder... Do I love him? Did I love him? A long time ago I told him I did... All along I thought I just got caught up in the moment and just wanted to have sex but... Maybe that wasn't it? Maybe I did love him. He meant something to me. He still does. That's why I showed up.

The rain stops falling now. I walk for a little bit, and I stand in front of Stan's front door.

I look through my old backpack that's now almost falling apart, and I find what I'm looking for. Pen and paper. I sloppily write a small note and I place it on the door.

 _I'm sorry._ That's all that I wrote. Afterwards I decide to hide behind a bush and just wait... I'm still crying and even the note got stained with tears, but I don't care.

If he doesn't want to see me... Then at least I can tell him that I'm sorry like this... It's better than nothing. I'm waiting here, only because I want to see him read it. After that I'll leave. And after that I won't come back ever again. I won't continue to haunt Stan Marsh's life. I promise.

* * *

A few minutes pass, and then he's there. Stan is standing right outside the door, and he stares at the note for a moment. And then he smiles. He smiles at it, before he looks through his pockets, and he fishes out a pen of his own. He writes something down on the note. After that he walks inside and closes the door behind him.

I stand up and walk towards the door. Why would he write something back? Why would he bother? If he doesn't wanna see me...

I look at the note, at what he wrote.

 _Very well... One more time. Just don't mess up again._

I just stare at it. No. Stan, you can't be serious. Even more tears spill out of my eyes, and I sob in a desperate manner. Another chance. He gave me another chance.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

The door creeks open. Stan knew. He knew I was here... The man in front of me smiles at me gently. I smile back, through the tears. This time I can do it. I won't hurt him like that anymore. I won't.

"I... I think that I really do love you, Stanley." I say honestly, before I continue to sob loudly. Suddenly arms wrap around me in a warm embrace, and I cling to him desperately. Thank you.

The End


End file.
